The Ghost of Harry Lime
by Cath1
Summary: She reaches out to the cat, but it hisses at her. “It only ever liked Ruth,” Harry says. Post 5.05 ficlet. RH.


Title: The Ghost of Harry Lime

Author: Cath

Disclaimer: Characters remain the property of people far more important than myself.

Summary: She reaches out to the cat, but it hisses at her. "It only ever liked Ruth," Harry says. Post 5.05 ficlet.

Notes: Borrows parts of a scene or two and the title from _The Third Man._ This doesn't belong to me either.

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The dark winter night mirrors nothing of the snow-filled skies portrayed on television. The all-encompassing fog that has epitomized much of Christmas this year lifted earlier in the day, before Catherine arrived. All that is left now is a cold, dark, damp evening that leaves him longing for the warmer days of summer.

He makes do with a warm fire and hot drinks.

Catherine, still accustomed to warmer climates, sits on the rug beside the fire, wrapped up in layers of clothing.

She tells him of her travels, of the latest film that she is producing, and even some about her fiancé. He could listen to her talk for hours, but there is less than one left until she is due to drive up north, in a whirlwind visit to all whom she knows in England before she returns to warmer climes.

She stops, mid-sentence, when a cat – dark and light grey striped – walks proudly into the room.

Catherine looks at her father, questioningly. "You never let us have a cat," she recalls. "You never liked them."

"I promised someone that I would look after it," he tells her truthfully.

She reaches out to the cat as it sits by the fire, tries to stroke it, but it hisses at her and stalks off.

"It only ever liked Ruth," Harry says.

"Who's Ruth?" Catherine asks.

He doesn't answer her; he wouldn't know how to describe her and their non-relationship relationship if he tried. He shakes his head and tries to dislodge thoughts of her before they become too affixed. It is not easy, even after all this time.

"Would you like another coffee?" he asks instead.

She pushes her thick jumper and long-sleeved t-shirt up her arm far enough to read her watch. "I'd better get going."

He is disappointed but tries not to show it.

"Where are you off to tonight?" he enquires as she starts to gather her things.

"Birmingham," she says. She picks up her bag, shakes it, and locates her keys. "One of my friends from college lives there. Kerry. Did you ever meet her?"

He shakes his head, no.

She walks to the hall and he follows, collecting her coat and holding it as she puts her shoes on. He helps her into her coat.

He opens the door, puts on a jacket, and guides her out of the house. He sees something small race past them; the cat, he thinks.

"Should he be out here?" Catherine asks.

"He'll come back when he's hungry," he says, but discreetly attempts to discern which direction the cat has disappeared off to.

"Drive carefully," he tells Catherine, bringing her into a brief hug.

She pulls away before she rolls her eyes at him. "Yes, dad," she replies dutifully.

"Let me know when you get there."

Again, she gives the same response. She opens the car door and gets in the rented vehicle, a black Vauxhall Corsa.

"I'll see you again soon, dad," she informs him as she closes her door. She waves before she drives away.

He stays outside a few moments after watching her disappear around the corner, attempting to locate the cat. The cat has a penchant for miaowing loudly in the middle of the night, demanding his home comforts, and Harry has little patience for getting out of bed in the cold of the night-time.

He spots the cat across the road, sitting in the dark recesses of a porch, and he makes a start towards it.

Something causes him to stop; the cat moves freely and happily against some indeterminate object. A person, perhaps? The vague shadows created are irregular, and the recess is too dark to determine anything above ankle level. He has not seen the cat respond in this manner ever, not even when hungry and trying to seduce him into giving more food.

A security light turns on outside his neighbour's house, illuminating the road and throwing other areas into shadow.

And then he sees her; the object becomes a very familiar woman, eyes wide at the shock of the revealing light. She stands up from her crouching position, tickling the cat. She looks almost like a character from a film noir in this light; pale skin contrasting with the darkness. It adds to her allure.

He is drawn to her.

"The ghost of Harry Lime?" he asks with a brief laugh in an attempt to create levity of the situation, but it falls flat with the hesitation and emotion that his voice betrays.

"Harry… I…" she fails to complete the sentence.

He continues to approach her. He fears that she will respond as Harry Lime did and run off into the shadows.

"Ruth," he says eventually. He tries to encompass within that one word the many things he wants to say: a confirmation that he is not imagining things, a question of whether she is staying, a statement of affection, an enquiry of her health, a sigh of relief, a fear that she will be caught, and a thousand other emotions.

She nods, responding at least to the fact that she is there; not merely a figment of his imagination.

"I just…" she tries speech again. "I wanted to see you," she admits. "I shouldn't have… I don't know what I was thinking."

She has remained in the same position this whole time, and now he is almost touching her. But he refrains from doing so.

"Come inside," he says.

"I… I can't," she replies. "I don't exist! I shouldn't have come here."

"Come inside," he repeats. "The cat needs to eat, he'll get cold out here," he says. And with those sentences he tries to communicate what he really means: you need to eat; you'll get cold; people are far more likely to see you out here talking to me than hidden inside.

"You can…"

"He doesn't let me pick him up," Harry interrupts.

She looks at him, finally moving her head. She cannot repress the smile that these words elicit.

She nods slowly, uncertain, and picks up the cat. It purrs happily in her arms.

She takes it inside and Harry closes the door behind her.

It is not the last time that she enters his house.

---

Fin.


End file.
